


Cliches

by riarklespitfire



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riarklespitfire/pseuds/riarklespitfire
Summary: Farkle is struggling to deal with his feelings for Riley so he writes a Journal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback or ideas for new stories are appreciated :)

It’s a cliché to fall in love with your best friend. I did it anyway. It’s cliché to keep a journal. I kept one anyway. It’s cliché to have a happy ending. It’s okay if I don’t have one anyway. 

My best friend, Riley Matthews, is the embodiment of what is right in the world. She is perfection manifested into a girl and any person who gets to know her is ever richer. Her beauty is unrivalled. I love that she’s clumsy. Her tripping over thin air is a sight to behold. Sometime it even looks like she’s just decided to hug the floor. I love that she’s goofy. She makes me smile when she talks about her love of Harry Potter. She can go on and on about it for hours without stopping. No one dares interrupt her. She may look all cute and innocent, not saying she isn’t, but she has this side of her that will absolutely tear you pieces if you says anything bad about her friends. This also extends to her love of Harry Potter. I love her entire being. 

I’m a straight A student. My teachers think my grasp of English is excellent. I disagree. Each day I write a new journal entry; an attempt to express my supressed emotions. To put into words how I feel about the brunette who stole my heart. (Not that I’m asking for it back, mind you). But each new entry does little to express my love for her. To be a master of words is to be a master of the heart. I don’t even own mine anymore. So this leaves me to this. Rambling on about a girl who sees me as only a friend. It’s okay though. Having her in my life is good enough because she is good.

My favourite thing in the whole universe is walking home in the rain on a Thursday evening. (I know, another cliché). After school Maya goes out with Shawn and her mum to the old diner she used to work at. Maya always gets a tuna melt. Somethings never change; kind of how my feelings for Riley never have. Lucas and Zay have baseball practice and don’t finish until 5. This leaves me with 30 whole minutes to be completely in love with her without anyone noticing. Riley may be intelligent but sometimes she’s oblivious. That or she’s in denial. All these years of me saying I love her and Maya may have just resulted in her believing I mean it in a platonic way. The truth cannot be further.

Every Thursday I wait for outside our maths class. We may be in the same class but Riley always likes to ask the teacher a few questions about the topics covered in the lesson. She always likes to make sure she understands everything. It’s an admirable quality. When she walks out the classroom, her eyes fix on me; she tilts her, gives me her biggest Riley smile and thanks me for waiting. I tell her I don’t mind. How could I? I’d wait forever for her. And I have a strange suspicion that I will. 

Last Thursday, something happened. I’m lost in thought when she slides her arm into mine, linking the two, and asks, ‘What’s wrong, Farkle?’ Struggling to come up with a legitimate answer, I lie to her saying, ’nothing, why would you ever think that?’ She then tells me, ‘I don’t know, you’ve just been so zoned out recently and I’m worried about you. We don’t have any secrets Farkle.’

I want to correct her, to tell her that it’s not true. I have been lying to you. I want to tell her I love you so much. You mean the world to me. You’re my Pluto. Something I love so much but will never have. But I can’t. It’s not fair to her. She deserves to keep her other best friend, (everyone knows, Maya comes first). And me, I don’t really deserve to have in my life but every so often I manage to make her laugh, to make her smile and if she’s happy, then I am too.

‘I just feelings for this girl who just only sees me as a friend, she’s all I can think about lately and its really driving me crazy. I don’t know what to do Riles.’  
‘You should tell her how you feel, any girl would be lucky to have you.’ 

I look her, studying her face; taking everything in. I consider telling her for a second. A second is all it takes for reality to kick in. I tell her, ‘maybe’ and then change the subject. I ask her how her day was and she begins to tell me about how she learnt about cell reproduction. She’s so adorable when she talk about science. My heart is melting at the sight of her. I can’t help but smile. She smiles back and before we realise, we’re at her front door. She invites me to come in. I tell her my dad has made dinner today. Her eyes expand in shock of the revelation. Normally my dad would have one his five personal chefs to cook for us but seeing how quiet I’ve been recently, he’s decided to make an effort.

Before I leave, Riley asks if she can borrow the notes I took in maths today. She’s still confused about certain aspects of calculus. I take out my leather bound notepad that I use to keep all my notes and hand it to her. She thanks me for it and walking her home. I tell her it was my pleasure. It always is. 

She goes inside and I begin to walk home plastered with the biggest smile on my face. She always has that affect on me. I get home and greet my dad. He was still preparing dinner. I go to my room and take out my journal, my other leather bound notepad. I open it up, ready to write about the events of the day when I read the last entry. ‘How to use hyperbolic substitution’. Blood rushes to my face as I realise something. I gave her the wrong notepad. My mind races, trying to come up with some method to deal with the mess that is about to occur, when I hear knocking at my door.

‘Dad, I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now’. I hear a soft voice reply, ‘It’s me, can I come in.’   
I stutter a bit before saying, ‘You can come in’. 

She opens the door and walks towards me, stopping a few inches from my face. I’m about to say something when she engulfs me the tightest hug I’ve ever received. She then whispers in my ear, ‘How could you think I didn’t love you?’  
‘Riles, you don’t love me the way I love you’, tears beginning to trickle down my face.  
She releases me from the hug and wipes the tear nestling itself on my cheek and says one last thing…  
‘Who says I don’t?’


End file.
